Of Broken Boys and Silent Songs
by Nobody's Dawn
Summary: AU. Klaine. When Blaine was eleven, he met mute runaway Kurt Hummel. The Anderson family took Kurt in and he's been a part of their family for six years now. But things from Kurt's past are coming back to haunt him and he has to learn that if you can't escape your past, you have to face it, and sometimes you don't have to do it alone.
1. Prologue

_**I'm sorry if you keep seeing this story pop up. The first time, a uploaded the wrong document. The second time, FF was acting up and deleted my story.**_

_**Warnings for Chapter: Some language, child abuse and a depressing back story or two**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee (if I did, it would star much more Klaine this season and those rumors about them breaking up would be squashed like a bug)**_

_**Summary: Blaine grew up in New York, and when he was eleven years old, he met a mute runaway named Kurt Hummel. The Anderson family took in Kurt and since then, and he has become a part of the family. But now, six years later, things (and people) from Kurt's past are starting to catch up with him and he learns the hard way that if you can't escape your nightmares, you have to face them. (I know this isn't a very good summary. I suck at writing them.)**_

_**A/N: Hi, readers. This is a Klaine fic. There will be boyxboy, so I'm warning you right now. Do not leave mean or rude comments. The first few chapters—I haven't decided how many yet—will span over a few years, then the story will pick up during Kurt's sophomore year and Blaine's junior year at school (I know Blaine is a year younger than Kurt, but I just don't agree with that). I would greatly appreciate any reviews you deign to give me, but suggestions would be greatly appreciated and all suggestions will be considered (I would, or course, give credit where credit is due). I only have a basic outline for the plot down, so I'm flexible. Tell me what you want to see happen with our boys. And now, on to the story!**_

_Of Broken Boys and Silent Songs_

_Prologue_

Lost.

That's how Elijah Hummel felt the night he ran away. Also confused, scared and lonely. He was only ten at the time, too young to really process what was happening to him. He knew what it was called, and he knew that it was wrong, but he also knew that his situation was different from the others he'd looked up in books at the library. Those kids had been good. They hadn't deserved it. In this case, _he _was in the wrong. It was all his fault. For liking boys. For missing Mommy. For playing with 'girl toys'. Every bruise was a reminder of what a disappointment he was. He got told everyday how he should have been born strong and handsome and liked football and videogames, so why did he need reminders? But that's what Daddy told him they were, and Daddy was never wrong. He was just trying to do what was best for him. He wanted help him get better. He was sick and needed to get better. Daddy told him he would be better when he stopped liking boys, but so far he still thought that the boy who sat in front of him in class was cute, no the bruises kept coming. He knew Daddy was always right, and Daddy said that the pain would help him get better, so he took everything that was thrown at him. He took the bruises, the broken bones, the insults. He never said a word when he showed up to school with his arm in a sling, or covered in poorly concealed bruises, and neither did anyone else. No one noticed and no one cared. But then one night, _IT _happened. Elijah could feel the large, strong hands wrapped around his neck, choking the life out of him. He could smell the gross brown drink on Daddy's breath. He could hear the deep voice saying, "_Why were you singing, you little fag? Real men don't fucking sing. And why is your fucking voice so high. You sound like a little girl. I won't have a fag like you for a son. I'm gonna make it so I don't have to hear your faggoty voice ever again." _Elijah had gasped and gasped for air until he couldn't breathe anymore. He'd passed out eventually, but not before he felt his body hit the floor and Daddy amble away, in search of another beer. When he woke up, he was alone. He'd tried to call out for Daddy, but when he'd tried to speak, he'd felt those large hands wrapped around his neck and had heard that deep, throaty voice. "_I'm gonna make it so I never have to hear your faggoty voice ever again_." So he didn't talk. He simply stood and went to go clean the vomit and empty beer bottles off the floor. And he didn't talk that night, or the next day, nor the next week or month or year. But that was when things changed. Daddy looked at him for a moment, his eyes crusty and glazed over, and said in a voice full of pure loathing, "You killed your mother, you fucking little faggot murderer." That was what it took for Elijah to realize, _Maybe Daddy isn't always right after all. _Because he'd have never hurt Mommy. She had been his world, the person he could trust with anything. She'd loved him and she'd never hurt him, even after he told her he thought Finn Hudson was really cute. And in his mind, that was that. Daddy was the only person he'd had left, and now he didn't have him anymore. So_ h_e walked out of his home, out of his life, and didn't even pause when he passed a sign that read in faded red letters "_Welcome to Lima, where everyone is welcome._"

So Elijah was on a different path now than he should have been, one that would have led to a troubled but happy life. He would have made great friends and found a place to belong in the McKinley High School glee club, somewhere that he belonged because he was different, not in spite of it. He would have met a boy and fallen in love at first sight. But the instant he set foot out that door with the intent of never coming back, all of that was gone in the blink of an eye. It's fortunate for him that old saying may have some truth to it.

All roads lead to Rome.

Blaine Anderson felt lost too.

He had been born into a very different life than Elijah. He lived in New York City, in the penthouse apartment of one of the finest hotels in the entire city. Everything in the apartment was expensive and rare, so obviously, playing wasn't allowed in the apartment. Blaine wasn't allowed outside without someone to watch him either, and since everyone was always so busy, that rarely ever happened. The nanny his mom hired, Janice, was supposed to take him out when he asked, but she never did. She just sent him to his room so she could play with the boys she invited over. So Blaine's life consisted of sitting alone, reading a book or singing to himself.

That wasn't to say that Blaine came from an unloving family. Blaine's family loved him plenty. His mom just had to work a lot. She hated leaving Blaine alone, but he insisted on it. She liked her job and he didn't want to ruin that for her. He had his big sister, Marissa, but she was way older than him. Five years older. What kind of eleven year old boy wants to play a game with his sixteen year old sister, who had recently discovered the joys of clothes and make up and boys? All (except the last one, when he grew up a little) would never appeal to Blaine. And anyway, why would a sixteen year old girl want to spend her time entertaining her baby brother? Blaine objected to the baby part, but that was what he was to her. There had used to be his older brother, Mark—he'd always been happy enough to entertain Blaine—but he'd left for college this year and Blaine barely got to see him anymore. And there was Reese and Penny, but they were little and that was no fun. His dad was always in Chicago or San Francisco or some other far away place for business, and he wasn't around enough to be missed.

Blaine didn't have any friends to play with anyway, even if the nanny had taken him outside. All of the children at school called him names, names that he didn't even understand. He had no one that he could rely on to say yes to a game of tag or a birthday party. He felt utterly alone in life.

Blaine's mother was good woman. She liked expensive things, sure, and sometimes she could act superior and snobby, but every Tuesday she would strip down to her cheapest clothes and go down to a soup kitchen to volunteer. She sent all of the things that her children outgrew to homeless shelters, where they would be put to good use, maybe even save a life. She donated money to underprivileged teens. She always had the best intentions in her heart. And she was a good mother, too. When Blaine would get hurt as a young child, she would never freak out or yell at him for being careless. She would soothe him until he calmed down, then send him with a band-aid and a kiss. When Marissa, his big sister, had entered her 'rebellious phase' and started dressing in all black and reading sad poems that he didn't understand, she hadn't pulled any stuff about "What would the neighbors think?", or "How could you dress in the garbage?". She had simply told her that she was as beautiful as ever, and that it didn't matter what she wore because her pretty face would always make it look good. And she'd even defended her against the gossipy neighbors who had started locking doors and giving Marissa dirty looks. And soon enough, it was over and Marissa got along even better with their mom. Blaine had always suspected that the phase was some kind of test that teenagers put on and his mom had passed with flying colors.

Therefore, when Blaine began to feel the loneliness weighing in on him, she noticed. It wasn't a phase that would pass, but something that was eating her son away from the inside out. And thus her suggested vacation. She claimed it was so she could shop, but really it was so Blaine could have a small break from the constant bullying that she knew he had to go through at school every day. She had complained to the school countless times, but they had claimed that it was a public school, and so it could do nothing to prevent _all_ its students from being bullied, the homophobic bastards. She of course was furious at the lack of concern for her son's wellbeing, but it was out of her hands. He would endure the same wherever he went.

She, of course, didn't know about Dalton Academy for Boys at the time. Blaine would have already been enrolled for next year if she had. After all, he was almost in middle school, which was the age that boys started to attend Dalton. She wouldn't care that it was expensive; she was wealthy and even if she wasn't, he son's safety was worth all the money in the world. But she was with Penny that day she was headed for the news stand where she was supposed to find a brochure for the prestigious boarding school in Ohio with a strict no-bullying poicy. Penny was a headstrong five year old girl and on that day, she'd decided she wanted ice cream. As her mother had stood there, glancing over the offered merchandise, Penny had tugged on her sleeve relentlessly. "Mommy, I want ice cream! There's a man with ice cream right there! Come _on_!"

Donna had turned from the stand and smiled down at her youngest. "Why not? Ice cream it is." And she grabbed her daughter's hand and walked away from her son's future.

Blaine Anderson was not going to Dalton Academy, He would not find a place where he could be at home or friends who would accept him for who he was. He wouldn't find the Warbler's, somewhere that he shone like a shooting star. He wouldn't meet a glasz eyed spy on the Dalton staircase.

But Donna Anderson chose her path, and the idea that her son could for the first time in his life feel safe and secure anywhere, even his own home, was lost in a sea of paths and choices to come.

And now her son was lost—literally. They were in Ohio—Westerville, Ohio to be exact. So far, the trip had consisted of going in and out of stores that dotted the area and the large Westerville Mall at the center of the town.

But Donna had noticed that Blaine, being the eleven year old boy that he was, had not been enjoying it. At all. She decided maybe it was time for Blaine to have a little fun. The trip _was _for him after all. And so Donna was taking Blaine to the park. When she told him, he was delighted and chattered the whole way there. Donna smiled as she listened to his excited rambling. Normally Blaine was very subdued and it was nice to see him this excited over something. Then she frowned for a moment. She really had to do something about that school.

Little did she know her son's life was about to get a little shove in the right direction. Blaine Anderson was about to find Kurt Hummel.

_**So what do you think? Should I continue? R&R, please!**_


	2. Chapter 1: Through the Woods

**Hi, guys! I would like to thank everyone who reviewed. You guys are great! All reviews are welcome, as long as they aren't insulting or mean, so feel free to click that little button anytime.**

**So, I realized that I need a beta. If anyone would like to do it, I'd be really grateful. You'd be helping me a lot. **

**Warnings: Suggestions at child abuse**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, my elaborate plot to take overthrow Ryan Murphy was foiled, so I don't own Glee still :(**

**But you guys probably don't even read these things, so here's your chapter!**

**Chapter 1: Through the Woods**

"Catch!" Wes called as he kicked the ball to David. David held his hands up above his head and easily caught the ball. He was the goalie on his school's soccer team and somehow, he never failed to catch whatever was thrown—er, kicked at him.

David smirked at Blaine and mouthed "_Sore loser" _as Wes went off on a rant about how he was cheating somehow. How you could cheat at catching a ball, Blaine had no idea, but in all fairness to Wes, David had caught every ball Wes kicked—even one in the opposite direction. That one had been amazing. Blaine swore he didn't even see David move. One minute he was poised to catch another kick, the next he was fifty feet away, clutching the ball victoriously. He had to imagine Wes was a little frustrated.

Blaine had met his new friends at the park his mom had taken him to. They'd been off to the side, playing the same game they were now. Blaine had sat and watched them, never imagining that one of them would come over and ask him to join their game. At first, he'd been suspicious. Why would they go out of their way to include him when they didn't even know him? But all of his suspicions had quickly melted away as they played and he found himself laughing along with David as Wes complained about magnetic hands and a hidden magnet inside the ball.

This was the first time in a long time Blaine had really played with kids his own age like this. Actually, this was the first time in a long time Blaine had had fun at all. No one would talk to him at school; not since they found out he thought Jacob Dixie was cute. After that, they'd started calling him names and shoving him in the hallways. His so-called friends had turned on him. In fact, his best friend Heath was the worst bully of them all. He started telling everyone Blaine had tried to kiss him, which was not true at all. Blaine hadn't thought about Heath like that. He tried to explain that to everyone, but no one believed him. None of the boys would change with him in the locker room, no one would sit with him at lunch and he was excluded from games at recess.

Blaine had learned to put his walls up around people his age. It felt nice to be able to let go and have fun like this, no worries. David and Wes were so much nicer than anyone he knew. Maybe people in Ohio were nicer than people in New York. But David and Wes didn't know about Jacob Dixie. They didn't know there was something wrong with Blaine. Maybe they wouldn't be so nice after that.

Blaine felt the ball bounce off his head and started in shock. He turned to look at Wes, who was grinning at him. "Are you normally this much of a space case?" he asked teasingly.

David snorted. "You're one to talk," he jabbed. Wes tunred to glare at him.

"I am not a space case! I'm just . . . easily distracted."

David rolled his eyes. "And what, Wes, do you think a space case is?"

"I'm not—it isn't—I just—Shut up," Wes finally grumbled after spluttering in indignation.

David smirked. "Thought so." He looked at Blaine. "Toss me the ball, would you?"

Blaine blinked at him absently, still a little lost in thought. David walked over to him and snapped his fingers repeatedly in front of Blaine's face. Blaine jumped slightly, snapping back to reality. He eyes focused on David and he blinked in surprise. "When did you get over here?"

David sighed. "Blaine. Ball. Get it." He pointed at the ball that lay a few feet behind Blaine. Blaine turned and quickly picked up the ball, flushing red in embarrassment. He handed it to David, who nodded in thanks and turned to Wes.

"Yo, Space Case!" he called out. To Blaine's amusement, Wes reacted, turning to look at David. David chucked the ball and Wes' eyes widened as he scrambled backwards to catch the ball. It flew way over his head and landed a few yards behind him. Blaine let out a low whistle of amazement. For a goalie, David had quite a throwing arm.

Wes finally got the ball back, eyes thirsty for revenge. "You jerk!" he called out, slamming the ball onto the ground. "Catch this!" He pulled his leg back as far as he could and kicked it with as much force as his small body could muster. The ball went flying and David reached his hands up. However, it flew way over David's head and the three boys watched as the ball disappeared into the woods at the edge of the field.

The three stood in silent amazement for a moment. The first to break the silence was Wes. "_Damn_," he crowed, puffing out his chest proudly. "Did you see that? Did you _see_ that? I'd liked to see you do _that_, Sullivan!" Wes then proceeded to do what Blaine assumed was a victory dance, but it looked more like he was being electrocuted.

David growled. "Nice going!" he yelled back. "You not only lost our only ball in the woods, it was my favorite ball. It was autographed!" David was glaring daggers at Wes, who wasn't paying attention to what he was saying at all. David ran his hand over his head as a sign of frustration. "Geeze," he muttered. "Why the hell is he my best friend again?"

Blaine looked between David, Wes and the woods and bit his lip. His mother had expressly told him not to leave the field (she was talking with a group of mothers she'd met), but David and Wes were the first people to be so nice to him. And David really wanted that ball . . . not to mention that if David didn't get his ball back, that would mean the end of the game and then Wes and David would go play somewhere else . . . without Blaine.

"David," he said in a meek voice, "I can . . . go get your ball for you."

David looked up at him, eyes wide and a small frown set on face. "You would do that?" He sounded doubtful.

Blaine looked at the towering trees of the woods and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He was going to get in so much trouble for this . . . Blaine nodded. "Yeah."

David smiled at him. It made Blaine feel warm inside. The smile was wide and bright, his exposed teeth gleaming. Blaine felt something strange, something he usually only felt around Jacob Dixie. Blaine suddenly felt like getting that ball back was the most important thing in the world. David's (handsome) brown eyes flickered to the woods and back to Blaine. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Blaine shook his head vigorously. "No, I can do it," he insisted. "I'll be right back." He spared one last glance at David and Wes (still dancing) and took off towards the woods.

Blaine was lost.

He'd stopped paying attention to where he was going, too focused on searching for the missing ball. He'd been in the woods for about five minutes before he realized he was completely, hopelessly lost. He'd spent the last ten trying to find his way out, but Blaine had the sinking feeling that he'd only succeeded in walking even deeper into the mass of trees.

He stopped for a break on the trunk of a fallen tree. He plunked himself down and sighed heavily. He finally had one good thing going for him and he'd now managed to royally screw that up. He imagined David's face as he realized that Blaine had not come back after fifteen minutes. Maybe he thought Blaine had taken the ball and ditched them. Not that Blaine would ever even consider it, but David didn't know that. He was probably regretting letting him play with them and angrily kicking the ground right this very minute. Just the very thought made Blaine's heart stop and panic rise in his chest. He needed to find that ball and get out of here—soon.

With renewed spirits, Blaine swung his legs over to the other side of the log—and stopped cold.

There, sitting against the trunk a large oak tree, was an animal. No, wait, it was wearing clothes. It wasn't an animal. It was—Blaine gasped. It was a _person_. But he had never seen a person so dirty before. Their skin was covered in mostly brown, which Blaine quickly realized was dried mud and dirt. Huge globs also adorned their hair, accompanied by leaves and small twigs. Their clothes were torn to the point that Blaine wasn't even sure they could be called clothes anymore—they were just rags hanging off the thin frame. The boy's—or at least he thought it was a boy—stomach was exposed, and Blaine could see his ribs, each one clearly defined. And in his lap, being clutched by small, delicate hands—_maybe it was girl?—_was David's ball.

Blaine felt the irresistible urge to help. His family always teased him about having a mothering instinct. He always stuck his tongue out in response, but it was true. He had a soft side for things that couldn't help themselves. His mother had told him be careful about strangers, but the kid looked liked he—she—_it_ couldn't even stand, let alone do much damage to him.

So Blaine stood up and stepped forward hesitantly, not wanting to scare the child. When he looked at him, what he saw wasn't wild or dangerous. What he saw was wary, nervous and scared. A pang of pity flashed through him, sharp and hot.

Blaine knelt down in front of it hesitantly, not quite sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. Upon closer inspection, he could see it was, in fact, a boy. Parts of his chest were exposed, revealing his skin to actually be a creamy white instead of a dirt-caked brown. It reminded Blaine of the color of the porcelain in their bathroom at home. The boy stiffened as Blaine got near him, his eyes widening for a brief moment, then narrowing in suspicion. Blaine couldn't help but note that they were a really pretty mix of blue, green and gray, like the ocean caught in the middle of a storm. But there was a steely quality about them, a distrust that kind of dampened their beauty.

Blaine bit his lip, a nervous habit. Was he supposed to take the boy with him? He wanted to. But what if his parents came looking for him? What if he was just a little lost . . . ?

_ Don't be an idiot, Blaine, _he scolded himself. _Look at him. He probably hasn't eaten in a long time, he's a walking dirt pile and his clothes are so ripped they're hardly fit to be called clothes. He is more than 'a little lost'._

Making his decision, he tentatively reached his hands out. The boy flinched back into the tree. "What . . . what's your name?" he asked lamely. He tried to keep his voice soothing, but it came out sounding wrong. He received no answer. The boy's eyes remained trained on Blaine in a guarded stare. "Um," he tried again, "why are you out here?" Again, he received no response.

After several more queries were addressed with silence, Blaine sighed and gave up trying to get answers from him. He sat back, his legs tired from crouching for so long. He rubbed his forehead. _Why me? Why today, my first good day in months? _He immediately felt horrible. There was a person in front of him—a half starved person that was scared out of his mind and obviously in need of help—and he was complaining about how it was inconveniencing him. David could wait.

He reached out a hand towards the boy, but instantly withdrew it when the boy flew backwards so fast his head slammed into the tree trunk. Blaine winced. That looked like it hurt. "Look, I get it if you don't want to answer questions—it's fine, really. But I really need to know if you want to come back with me. Like, quickly." He winced as the words left his mouth, sounding harsher than he had meant them. "Sorry. It's just that my mom is probably wondering where I am. Don't get the wrong idea. I really want you to come with me." He looked the boy in the eyes. He could see uncertainty there. "I'm not going to force you to. But I do want you to. I want to help you. Are you going to let me?" He waited for a moment. The boy closed his eyes, a look that Blaine didn't understand flashing across his face. His eyes didn't open again and he didn't respond.

Blaine sighed. Like he had said, he wasn't going to force the boy to come with him if he didn't want to. But his muscles screamed at him to stop as he pushed himself up and stood. Every instinct yelled _don't leave don't leave help him don't leave_. He turned after one last look at the boy, who had not moved. Reluctantly, he turned away. He began to walk in the direction that he had come from.

However, he halted when he heard the rustling of leaves behind him, followed by light footsteps. Something caught on his sleeve and he turned. His eyes widened as he realized that the boy was standing in front of him, trembling hand holding tightly onto the fabric of his sleeve. His eyes were scared and lonely. Blaine could see the unsaid plea in them: _Please don't leave me alone. _Blaine once again felt the urge to grab him and protect him.

The boy's other hand came up and, resting in it, was the ball. Blaine started. _David. _He'd forgot. Tentatively, he reached out and took the ball in his hands. The boy's arm fell back to his side limply, as if his energy was gone. "What?" he asked softly, wondering if the boy would actually answer this time. "You want to come with me?"

To his surprise, the boy met his gaze, green and blue swirled with gray locking with soft hazel, and nodded.

_**Do you hear that? That button is saying "Click me! Click me!".**_


	3. Chapter 2: I Told You So

_**And here it is! The second chapter of OBB&SS. A few more chapters till we get to the main storyline. And I especially apologize for my repeated use of 'the boy', but I don't have anything else to call him yet. That changes in the next chapter, so please just bear with me. And just in case I didn't make it clear: yes, Blaine has a crush on David. He is the first boy to be nice to him in a long time,so it's natural he should get a crush on him. And remember, I am completely open to suggestions on where you want this story to go. I will address all of your ideas, and if I don't I'll make sure to tell you why.**_

_**Anyways, onto the story!**_

_**I Told You So**_

The walk back consisted of one of the most awkward silences in Blaine's life. The boy didn't speak a word, just followed Blaine along like a lost puppy. His eyes had trained themselves studiously on the ground and he hadn't looked up since they had started walking. Blaine had tried to start a conversation at one point, but hadn't even received a glance in reply. So he had simply went back to trying to find the right path out of the woods.

He wondered what his mother would think when he showed up with the boy in tow. Many people would be horrified their son was with someone who looked like the forest had spit out a child, but Blaine's mother was a kind, compassionate woman. He knew she would probably take pity on the boy and help him. Blaine hoped the first thing she did for him was get him some food. He couldn't help the frequent looks at the boy's stomach. His ribs were clearly defined, the skin stretched tight across them. The sight made Blaine wince.

Lost in thought, he made to turn onto one of the adjacent paths. As soon as he started to walk down it, though, he felt a small gentle hand encircle the wrist of the hand that wasn't holding onto David's ball. The fingers were long and delicate. Blaine instinctively yanked his hand back and pulled his hand to his chest. He turned to see the boy looking at him, hand outstretched, a slightly startled look touching his face. Blaine felt immediately horrible. That had been extremely rude. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "You just . . . startled me." The boy nodded and let his hand drop back limply to his side.

Blaine looked away quickly. He was acutely aware of the area on his skin that the boy had touched. His wrist burned like the boy's hand had been a hot iron. His face slowly warmed into a bright red, although he didn't know why. He wasn't used to people touching him. Well, minus shoving.

Blaine suddenly realized with a jolt that he was alone. He looked around wildly, searching for his companion. His heart was beating wildly. He hadn't lost him, had he? Had he hurt his feelings, so he'd run off? Was it all his fault? This was bad. So, so bad. The boy was starving and cold. Who knew if he could survive much lon—wait. He finally caught sight of him. He was a ways off down a different path, walking at a steady pace.

Blaine let out a sigh of relief and ran after him, his heart slowly settling to a normal pace and his panic subsiding. He was grateful the boy hadn't gotten far. Blaine felt like he needed to protect him. He seemed so vulnerable, and it pulled at Blaine's heart and sympathies.

He quickly caught up with the boy. The boy didn't falter at his sudden appearance, simply looked at him briefly before his gaze returned to the dusty path. _Maybe he's mad? _"Wait," Blaine said, placing a hand on the boy's bony shoulder. He felt the muscles stiffen and quickly released him. "Sorry," he apologized. "But you're taking the wrong path. We need to go that way." He gestured towards the path he had just come from.

The boy shook his head and jabbed a finger in the opposite direction, which was where the trail they were currently on led. Blaine frowned. "That way leads deeper into the forest," he insisted. "We have to go the other way if we want to get out of here." The boy once again simply jabbed at the air next to him. His argument was silent, but Blaine could tell he wasn't going to budge. He tried one more time anyway, just in case. "We have to go that way. There's—" He racked his brains for something to convince the boy to follow him. He glanced once again at the protruding rib cage. "There's food that way," he tried.

The boy simply shook his head again and opened his mouth to let out a frustrated sigh. The sigh was silent, but Blaine could see the determined set of his mouth. He cast Blaine one last look and turned, continuing his trek down the trail Blaine didn't move for a second, hesitating, and he looked behind him towards the path that led out of the woods. Then his gaze shifted to the retreating figure of a helpless boy and he groaned, setting off after him. He hoped the kid knew what he was doing.

As it turned out, Blaine had been wrong. He realized this as the trees that surrounded them became more spread out. Light shone ahead and he could faintly hear the screaming of children at the park. The boy looked back at him, and Blaine could swear that was a smirk curling his lip. Blaine read the message loud and clear: _Told you so._

Blaine smiled at him. It was a big, genuine smile. He wasn't upset that he'd been wrong. It wasn't in his nature to get mad over things like that. "You did," he said. The boy looked at him, startled, and Blaine realized that he'd just responded to something that hadn't even been said. He could feel his face flame. "Sorry. I just kinda felt like you were saying I told you so." Blaine realized how that sounded. "Not that it's a bad thing. I mean, I don't think you mean it meanly. Or would have meant it meanly, if you had said it. Which you didn't. It just—I didn't—you, I mean—" He was stammering, and every word made him feel like more of an idiot than the last one. His face was steadily going from a light blush to the color of a tomato. He coughed, cutting himself off. "Just never mind." He walked quickly towards the direction the light was coming from, studiously not looking at the boy.

So he missed the hand the boy placed over his mouth, trying to hide his silent laughter.

They finally reached the edge of the woods. The trees gave way to the field where Blaine had been playing with Wes and David. They were no longer there. The field was empty and Blaine felt his hopes deflate like a balloon. What exactly he'd been hoping for he didn't know, but he did know that he'd wanted to keep playing with David. _And Wes,_ he added quickly.

The boy emerged behind him. His hand flew to his face to shield his eyes from the blinding sun. He watched curiously as Blaine dropped the ball dejectedly. Blaine grabbed his hand and pulled him along, though, without saying a word. He supposed he should take the boy to his mom anyway. He felt the hand go stiff in his and gently try to tug away, but Blaine didn't let go at first. It was only after he felt the slight tremble as the boy's hands shook that he released him. He wasn't being fair. He shouldn't take things out on the boy. He'd been through enough, or at least Blaine assumed so.

He stopped and turned to face his companion. He felt a sharp pain in his heart when his gaze was met with steel. Gray had dominated the blue and green, and the look the boy gave him was hard and cold. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm really sorry." _How many times have I apologized to him already? _"I'm just upset about something and I'm taking it out on you. That's not right. I shouldn't have grabbed your hand like that." Blaine gestured towards the park. "Come on, let's get you some food and clothes." As if cued by Blaine's words, the boy's stomach let out a growl. Blaine thought the boy blushed a little, but it was hard to tell through all of the layers of forest on him.

Blaine walked towards the park, checking over his shoulder to make sure he was being followed. He was. The boy was trailing after him, looking nervous. Blaine decided to reassure him. "Hey, don't worry. My mom's real nice. She'll give you food and clothes, at least. She wouldn't turn you away. She'll make sure you get help. Maybe she can help you find your mom and your dad."

A look of panic crossed the boy's face. His muscles tensed and his body language suddenly read flight. His eyes were wide. Blaine stopped short, turning to face him. "What's wrong? Are you coming?" Blaine was nervous. The boy looked like he would run off at any second. Why? All he'd said was they would help him. For a moment, he thought the boy would take off without answering, which in itself would be answer enough, but his stomach growled again, louder this time, and he slowly nodded. His posture relaxed, although he still looked ready to flee at a moment's notice. Blaine frowned, but continued forward. The boy followed, more reluctantly than last time.

They reached the edge of the park and Blaine immediately spotted his mother. She was with two other women and . . . David and Wes! The two boys were talking animatedly to the three women, but they didn't look happy. The three women (the other two of which Blaine guessed were David and Wes' mothers) looked worried. His mother had her hand over her mouth, horror on her face. He could even swear he saw tears swimming in her eyes.

He looked at the boy. "This way," he said, and took off towards the group, his heart pounding. Why was his mother crying? Was something wrong?

The first to see him coming was Wes. His face lit up in wonder. "Blaine?" he yelled. The other four turned to look in the direction that Wes was looking.

His mother spotted him and and she gasped. Tears started streaming from her eyes and she ran to meet him halfway. She wrapped her arms around him in a bone crushing hug and he felt her tears wet his cheek. "Blaine!" she said. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Oh, why didn't you listen to me and stay out of the woods? You are in. So. Much. Trouble!" Each word was accompanied by a hard squeeze. He could barely breathe by the end, but his mind had caught up with the situation. His mom was crying because he'd gone into the woods. It suddenly occurred to him just how long he'd been gone. David and Wes must have gotten worried and told their moms and his mom. That was what they were doing.

He heard his mother gasp. She pulled back from him, but didn't let go. She was looking at something over his shoulder. He craned his neck to the side and saw the boy standing there, staring at them. Crap. He'd forgotten about him for a second. "Mom, it's okay. He was—"

"Oh, honey!" she exclaimed. "What happened to you?" She released Blaine and rushed to the boy's side. He was looking at her with wide eyes. His mouth had dropped open and he was gaping at Blaine's mom as she fretted. His expression made Blaine want to laugh. It was one many had when they first met the tornado that was his mom's mothering instinct. "Are you okay?" she asked, hands fluttering over his dirty skin. She gasped in shock and horror as the rags shifted to reveal a portion of his stomach. "Oh my god! When's the last time you ate?" She didn't wait for an answer, which was just as well since she wouldn't have received one. "We need to get you something to eat right now." She looked around for a second before it dawned on her they were in Ohio and there weren't food carts on the sidewalks.

"Are your parents around, honey?" she asked the boy. He shook his head. She frowned. "Well, then you have to come home with me and Blaine. You need food and a good bath. Once you have that, we'll sort this whole mess out." Blaine noticed that once again, the boy's posture stiffened. Why did he get so tense at the mention of someone helping him?

David and Wes' mothers had been watching silently up until that point. When his mom said she was taking the boy home—which was actually just her sister's house, who was on vacation—David's mom frowned. "Donna, you can't seriously be thinking of taking him home with you. You don't know anything about him. You have a child to think about." Patricia Sullivan meant good, but Donna turned around and gave her a hard glare.

"No, Patricia," she said coolly, "I have two children to think about. And one of them needs me right now. So, if you'll excuse us . . ." She grabbed Blaine's hand in one of hers and used the other to capture the boy's hand. Blaine saw that while his muscles tightened a bit, he didn't seem to mind. _Was it just me that he didn't want to touch? _Blaine wondered, feeling a little insulted and a little hurt.

As they passed, David said, "Me and Wes are here everyday." It was an invitation. Blaine felt gratitude run through him and a warm feeling spread though his body. He nodded, the suddenly remembered something.

"Oh! You're ball is in the field. It thought you had left so I left it." A smile spread across David's face, and Blaine's heart melted.

"You actually got it. I'm impressed." And then Donna tugged Blaine away. It was the last time Blaine saw either of his new friends for three years.

_**Sorry, I know this chapter isn't the best. I'm trying to get as much out there as possible because I have to turn in my computer in a few weeks and after that, updates are going to get harder, not to mention typing up the chapter. But I would appreciate feedback!**_

_**Next chapter, Donna and Blaine find out a little more about the little wild child (you probably know who it is—or do you? *evil laugh*).**_

_**And I'm still looking for a beta, so if anyone out there wants to take on this story . . .**_

_**Red means stop, green means go and purple means click.**_


	4. Chapter 3: Kurt von Trapp

_**Sorry about the wait. I don't have access to the internet on weekends, plus I was kind of busy with mother's day. I'm grateful to everyone who has read my story, especially those who reviewed it. I love you guys!**_

_**I personally don't like how I ended this chapter, but its up to you guys, I guess. I'd say one or two more chapter before the time skip, but I'm not quite sure yet.**_

_**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, there'd be a lot more Klaine. So obviously, I don't**_

_**Kurt von Trapp**_

It was difficult getting the boy into the car. He struggled and resisted, no matter what method they used. Finally, the promise of food broke his resolve and he reluctantly climbed into the backseat next to Blaine. Both Donna and Blaine were relieved that he'd finally given in. Donna hadn't known what she could do if he refused to go back with them. She certainly wasn't going to force him.

Blaine couldn't help but stare at the boy as Donna turned her key in the ignition and started to drive. He looked so incredibly out of place. He was something wild and primitive, and the car seemed like the wrong setting for him. Blaine wondered if he would seem to fit In more if it wasn't for all of the nature that clung to his body. Probably.

The car ride consisted of Donna asking the boy questions, the boy answering with the movement of his head or not at all, and Blaine relaying the action back to Donna as she had to keep her eyes on the road and could not look back at the boy. Most of her questions went unanswered.

Blaine was glad when they reached Aunt Robyn's house. The car was beginning to feel crushed under the boy's silence. Blaine felt fidgety and uncomfortable. As soon as the car came to a full stop, he pushed open his door and jumped out. He turned back to look at the boy and noticed he was still in the car., frowning as he pushed at the car door, which wouldn't budge.

Blaine quickly went around the car and opened it for him. "It's child-locked," he explained. "We have it like that for my little sister and little sister. I guess Mom forgot to undo it when we came here." A quizzical look was sent his way. "We're not from here. We live in New York. This is my aunt's house. We're just staying here while we're in Ohio."

The boy's eyes widened considerably when Blaine said "New York". His mouth dropped open slightly and he gazed at Blaine with something akin to awe in his eyes. Blaine laughed. "What?" he asked,his voice amused. "You like New York?" The boy nodded. "You ever been there?" The boy's awed gaze instantly darkened and slowly he shook his head no. The excitement bled out of his eyes and his lips curled into a pronounced frown. Blaine wondered what he'd said wrong this time.

"So," he said, hurriedly changing the subject, "how about that food we promised you?" He reached for the boy's hand to tug him into the house, but paused halfway through the action and slowly curled his fingers into his palm. "Sorry." He gestured towards the house. "Let's go."

When they entered the house, Blaine was stupefied by all of the food Donna had set out on the table. He hadn't even been aware they had all of this in the house. Apples, bananas, watermelons, carrots, cookies, an entire jumbo bag of popcorn, every lunch meat imaginable and a lot. He stared at his mother in shock. "Where the heck did you find all of this?" he asked her, waving at the table.

She blinked. "In the kitchen," she said as if the answer was obvious. Which it was. Blaine dug his knuckles into his temples.

"Well, he should shower first," Blaine suggested. "What's he going to wear?"

Donna looked at Blaine disapprovingly. "Give him something of yours, Blaine. Don't be selfish."

"Mom, I'm not being selfish," he protested. "I'm bigger than him. My clothes probably won't fit."

"Well, we can try," Donna said with finality, clearly indicating the end of the conversation. "Now, why don't you go show him where the bathroom is while I finish up here?" Blaine was extremely wary of her 'finishing up'. He briefly wondered just how much food there was that he hadn't known about.

He shook his head and decided he didn't want to know just how much more she could put on the table. Instead he turned to the boy. "Come on," he said. "I'll show you the bathroom." He went up the stairs, the boy trailing after him.

Blaine waited in his room while the boy showered. He had given the boy the smallest clothes he could find, but he still felt they were going to be to big. He listened to the sound of the water as it hit the porcelain bottom of the bathtub. It made him think of the pieces of skin that had exposed themselves through the dirt. _I wonder what he really looks like._

After about 45 minutes, the shower stopped running. Blaine wasn't surprised it had taken so long to get rid of all of the dirt. His mom was probably going to have to go full out cleaning mode on the tub to get rid of all of the dirt and mud and leaves that were probably clogging the drain. He pictured dirty brown water pooled in the bottom of the tub and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

A few minutes later, his door was slowly pushed open, but no one entered. Blaine smiled. "What's wrong? Come on in?" He felt excitement rise inside of him. He was about to see what their house guest looked like clean. It was like seeing someone take their mask off for the first time ina movie. You couldn't stop guessing what they looked like right up until the last second.

However, nothing could have prepared him for the punched-in-the-gut feeling that hit him when the boy stepped into the room.

The boy's skin had been scrubbed clean of any dirt, allowing Blaine to see fully his smooth porcelain skin. It was a little tinged with red from the heat of the shower, but you could still tell he was very pale. His hair had been washed and all of the mud was gone, and now it was a darker brown. It lay plastered to his forehead, but it was easy to see that he had attempted to style it with his fingers. Blaine guessed it must be a light brown when it wasn't wet. His eyes were still the same amazing blend of colors, but their effect was enhanced by the pale skin that framed them and the delicate eyebrows that hovered above them. His lips were a soft pink that matched his pale skin perfectly. He forced his eyes away from them, a blush spreading across his cheeks. The clothes Blaine had lent him hung limply on his frame. They looked several sizes too big.

Blaine gawked. It wasn't just a change—it was a complete _transformation. _He was—he was—Blaine couldn't even find the words to describe the utter enormity of the change. Blaine stared at a boy who at first he a hadn't even been able to tell was male, or even _human, _who had somehow become the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. Even more so than David or Jacob Dixie.

Blaine didn't know it, but that was the first time he fell a little bit in love with Elijah Elizabeth Hummel.

When the two boys went downstairs, Donna had managed to submerge the table completely in all kinds of food. Blaine was still dumbstruck by the boy's appearance and didn't even manage to make a snippy comment about it. Donna frowned at her son's silence, but didn't comment. He looked a little shell shocked, so she decided to give him some time.

She instead focused on the boy. He was staring at the food she had set out with eyes as big as saucers, and she vaguely noted he had very nice eyes. Glasz, she believed it was called. She felt a slight jolt as she took in his clean state. He was a very nice looking child. But she also noted that there were faint dicolorings dotted across his skin. Bruises. And scars too. She frowned at them, but decided not to mention anything. She knew he would need a little time before he was ready to tell her what was wrong. She has the gut feeling it was more than a missing child case.

She smiled at the two boys. "Why don't you two go watch TV in the living room? I'll bring the food in there and we can watch a movie." Both of them nodded, Blaine absently and the boy eagerly, and walked off towards the living room. She watched them go, and then turned back to the mountain of food she'd set out. This might take a while to get sorted out. She supposed they'd have to start without her.

When they entered the living room, Blaine walked right over to the movie rack. Aunt Robyn was a movie buff, so he knew she'd have an extensive collection. There was everything from action to comedy to romance to the classics. He flicked through them randomly, passing over _Transformers_, _Get Smart_ and _P.S. I Love You _before stopping at _The Sound of Music. _He grinned.

He pulled it out, not surprised his aunt had it. It was one of the best movies ever made, after all. He turned and showed off the movie to the boy. "How about the Sound of Music?" he suggested. "Have you ever seen it?"

The boy's eyes shone. He smiled and nodded vigorously. Blaine cocked an eyebrow and a smile pulled at his mouth. "You like this movie?" The boy nodded again. "So I guess that means we're watching this." He popped the first dvd out of its case and turned on the dvd player. "Who's your favorite character?" he asked, temporarily forgetting he wasn't going to get an answer. He realized his mistake immediately. "Sorry, I forgot."

The boy simply shook his head and smiled. He picked up the dvd case from where Blaine had set it down on the TV stand and pointed, holding it out towards Blaine. His finger lay on one of the characters—Kurt von Trapp. Blaine smiled even bigger. "Me too."

Looking up at the boy in front of him, Blaine temporarily forgot what he was doing. He forgot everything except that the boy's leg was three inches from him. He swore he could feel the heat the boy was radiating. "You remind me of him," he blurted out, not thinking about it."Kurt von Trapp."  
The boy raised an eyebrow with an affronted expression, but the look was joking. Blaine knew what the look said: _I remind you of Nazi?_

"That's not what I meant," Blaine said, flushing. "I—" He stopped. In truth, the reason had said it was because he used to love watching this movie just to stare at Kurt von Trapp. But, of course, Blaine couldn't tell the boy that. So instead, he just said "You kind of look alike."

The boy looked from the picture on the dvd case to his reflection in the TV and back again. Finally he just shook his head. '_I don't see it.' _Blaine was getting good at reading his expressions and gestures.

An idea came to Blaine. He looked up at the boy that hovered near him. "Hey," he started, tentative about saying something that would upset him, "are you ready to tell us your name?" As expected, the boy shook his head. "Then how about, until you want to tell me your name, I call you Kurt?" The boy froze for a second. For a second, Blaine thought he'd said something very wrong. But after a moment, a smile, the biggest he'd seen yet, spread across the boy's face. He nodded, looking pleased. His lips moved, and although Blaine couldn't read lips, he knew they were forming around the name "Kurt".

Donna entered the room, her arms loaded with food. "So, boys," she said, beaming at them, "what movie are we watching?" She spotted the case in Kurt's hand. "I should have known," she said fondly. "Blaine, did you ask, um, our guest if he wanted to watch that?" She stumbled, not knowing what to call 'their guest'.

Blaine smiled at her. "Mom, this—" he let his hand knock against the boys leg, telling himself it was just for clarity "—is Kurt. And yes, I asked him." Blaine liked the way the name Kurt felt in his mouth, but tried not to let it show on his face. It hadn't felt like that when he talked about Kurt von Trapp. He wondered why.

Donna looked at the two boys. She had raised Blaine from a baby. She'd lived through his Kurt von Trapp phase. She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly why Blaine had chosen that name for . . . Kurt. She knew it wasn't his real name. There would have been no way for Kurt to tell Blaine his real name. She wondered if Blaine even knew why he'd chosen that name, or if he didn't realize he had a little crush on Kurt. She loved Blaine to death, but he could be a bit oblivious at times.

She saw a smile ghost across Kurt's lips when Blaine's hand brushed against his leg that Blaine missed. Looking at the two boys before her, she knew Kurt was going to change Blaine's life forever. She didn't know how he was going to do it, or if it was going to be for better or for worse. All she knew was that it was going to happen, and she just hoped Blaine would be ready when it did.

_**So what do you guys think? R&R, please!**_


	5. Chapter 4: An Unwelcome Visit

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I'm horrible, I know. But my stepdad is one of those "When I was you're age, we didn't watch television. I got on my bike at eight in the morning and rode until midnight." kind of people. He unplugs the internet connection on our router so that I can't use it. On top of turning off the internet, he blocks our computer so that you can't get on without a password, which I don't know. And when I finally **_**do**_** get to go on the computer, he only lets me on for twenty minutes. It sucks. I've been on the computer a total of four times since summer started, yet he complains I spend all my time on the internet. **

**Anyway, this chapter isn't very long, but it's the best I can manage until summer is over and I get my netbook back from my school. They take it during summer break. I promise I'll start updating more often then, and I'll try to get out another chapter before summer is over, but please be patient. I really don't have many options right now. You're all so wonderful for even reading this story, let alone reviewing and all of the follows and favorites I have. I wish I could update more often for you, but you'll just have to wait it out. I'm really, really sorry.**

**An Unwelcome Visit**

That night, Kurt slept in the guest bedroom. Blaine had insisted Kurt take his bed, but the small boy refused with a hard shake of his head and a stubborn set to his mouth. He'd pointed to his clothes, then to the kitchen, and finally gestured all around him, presumably to the house itself. He'd then drawn his hand across his throat in a quick slicing motion. Donna hadn't understood the message, but Blaine had somehow. He seemed to be unusually adept at reading Kurt's gestures and expressions. What Kurt had meant, he told his mother, was that they'd already given him clothes, food and a place to stay, and that he didn't want to take anything else from them.

So that night, Blaine lay alone in his bedroom (he didn't know why Aunt Robyn insisted he had his own bedroom there, but he wasn't complaining). He stared at the ceiling where multitudes of glow in the dark stars were plastered to every spare inch of space. He often did this when he wanted to think about something. The luminous and tacky plastic decorations comforted him somehow. He breathed deeply, enjoying the peace of the moment after the long and eventful day.

The thing that was first and foremost on his mind, of course, was Kurt. The boy was a mystery to Blaine. At the house, he could almost see past the many barriers Kurt had built around himself to the mischievous, proud, sarcastic boy he knew was in there. The way he walked, his steps sure and steady, the way his eyes danced when he silently teased Blaine, his snarky little half smile that Blaine had seen a brief flash of. But other times, it was like that boy was buried altogether under an entirely different one, one that flinched when touched, jumped at loud noises and seemed so frightened and unsure Blaine felt like he might break at the slightest touch.

Kurt was fascinating, to say the least. Blaine had found throughout the day that he couldn't seem to look away. He'd watched as Kurt dazzled and amazed him with snarky comment or an unsure question. It was strange how well he felt he knew the boy. Every gesture seemed to be as easy for Blaine to understand as if Kurt had spoken aloud. His mother didn't seem to be able to understand Kurt at all, unless the meaning was obvious.

Something about Kurt made Blaine feel unsettled, though. Maybe it was the strange flip his stomach did when Kurt licked his lips or met Blaine's gaze. The feeling was uncomfortable, although Blaine wouldn't go so far as to call it unpleasant. He almost craved the feeling. It was like that anxious feeling you got when someone said they had a surprise for you, and you couldn't stop guessing what it would turn out to be. Blaine couldn't stop guessing how things with Kurt might turn out.

But no, that wasn't what Blaine was feeling. Blaine suspected the unsettled feeling came from the obvious bruises that littered Kurt's body, the scars and scratches and the welts. It looked like Kurt had emerged the loser from a fight. The thought caused Blaine to frown, because if that were true, it most certainly had not been a fight with a tree branch, which meant someone had hurt Kurt.

Blaine realized that, through all of the bullying and the torture he endured everyday, it was the first time he feelings had moved past anger and dislike into pure, unbridled hate.

The next morning was a hard one for them. All three rose from bed and went down to eat breakfast. It was delicious, a buffet of bacon and eggs and sausage and toast, but no ate much and no one enjoyed what they did eat. There was a palpable tension in the air, turning the food tasteless and bland in their mouths. After fifteen minutes of not eating, Donna cleared away the food without a word, her mouth drawn in a worried line.

Today was the day she had to call the police.

Each at the table had their own reasons for dreading the call. Kurt's . . . well, they were obvious enough. The police would send him back home—no, not home. They would send him back to that house with his father. It had long since ceased to be a home for him. Donna's reason were similar She suspected from the mass of injuries and odd behavior that Kurt was abused. She knew calling the police might get removed from that place for good, but it also might just fold under police incompetence and Kurt would be back in an abusive home, which she just absolutely would not allow. Blaine's reasons were completely different.

He simply did not want Kurt to leave.

The call was made at eleven. The police were there by one.

Two officers showed up at the house. One was a tall, pretty blonde woman with a serious yet soft face. The other officer was a balding man with a thick moustache and round stomach. His features were much more unfriendly than his partner's. They introduced themselves as Officer Bridges and Officer Grody. Donna invited them in. Officer Bridges accepted with a gracious mile, but Officer Grody remained stoic as he entered the house.

Donna had sent Blaine and Kurt upstairs, ordering them not to come down unless they were called. She didn't want them around for this. She intended to discuss her suspicions about Kurt's past, and that was something neither by should be forced to witness.

They settled on the couch in the living room. The police officers sat side by side and Donna perched opposite them in an armchair. She was wringing her hands and her eyes were flitting nervously around the room. She had never been in a position like this.

Officer Bridges noticed her nerves and smiled. "It's alright Mrs. Anderson, you don't have to worry. You called us about a missing child?" Donna nodded. "Well, we got your fax of his photo. We're having our people search for any missing children matching his description." Donna was still tense, so Officer Bridges added, "There shouldn't be too many false matches to search through because of his eyes. They're a very beautiful color. Blue and green mixed with gray. I think there's a name for it, but . . ."

"Glasz," Donna supplied, smiling slightly. "It's called glasz." Her shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Of course," Officer Bridges said, "glasz."

The questions did not take as long as Donna thought they would. They finished with asking if Donna wanted to by the temporary guardian of Kurt until they found his parents. She agreed immediately. She had never considered there to be any other option.

Before the officers left, Donna brought up her last point to Officer Bridges, who had conducted most of the questioning. "I think Kurt comes from an abusive home," she said, he eyes sad. "You must have seen at least a few his injuries in the picture I sent you . . ."

Officer Bridges nodded. "Yes, I did notice that. We'll make sure to investigate it thoroughly once we find Kurt's home. I hate cases like this. I hope we're wrong, but where abuse is suspected it normally exists." Officer Bridges frowned "Take good care of him, Mrs. Anderson. He needs it." That was the last thing to be said, so the officers took their leave.

Donna sighed and collapsed into the chair she's been sitting in. This was such a horrible situation. But no matter what happened, Donna would not let Kurt go back to people who treated him so badly. Donna _was _going to take good care of him. Officer Bridges had said he needed it, but what she'd forgotten to say was that, more than anything, he deserved it.


	6. Chapter 5: Matchless

**OH MY GOD, I'M NOT DEAD! IT'S A MIRACLE! Ha ha, I know. It's been forever since I updated. Really, I didn't plan for it to take this long, but one thing after another kept coming up and before I knew it, it was February already. You can thank KittyKatSisters for this update. Thanks for reviewing even after I stopped updating for so long! You're all wonderful.**

**In order to make sure this doesn't happen again, I'm setting a deadline for myself. I'll try to update every week and if I don't, then feel free to yell at me until I get the next chapter up. Thank you for anyone still with this story after so long. You didn't wait so long to hear me babble on, so here you are: the next chapter of OBB&SS!**

**Chapter 5: Matchless**

The following week was one of the most amazing times of Blaine's young life. He'd never had much of a chance to bond with the other children his age. He was always set apart from them, an anomaly that no one felt like dealing with. And now that he had found someone so amazing, who actually enjoyed his company, he found himself happier than he had been in a long time. It was a week of smiles and laughs and pure, unbridled joy.

It was also a week filled with tension that had all three of them on edge. They all waited anxiously each day for the police to contact them. Donna had taken to hovering near the phone, eying it as she tidied up the messes Kurt and Blaine left behind. Her suspicions about Kurt's home life were strengthened each time he flinched at an outstretched hand or shook at a stern word.

And it of course had not escaped her notice that in all his time with them, Kurt had never spoken a word. She wondered if he'd been born mute, or if the reason for the silence was much more horrible.

Both boys dreaded the moment the phone call would come, Neither wanted to say goodbye to their new friend. In preparation for when Kurt would be taken back, they spent every waking moment together. They played as vigorously as they could, greedily taking in every moment of each others company. Occasionally a blush would wash over one of their features when the other wasn't looking, but it was chalked up to nerves at Kurt's looming departure. What else could it be?

As it turned out, the phone call never came. Instead, Officer Bridges arrived on their doorstep exactly one week after her first visit. Her pretty face was drawn into a solemn expression when Donna answered the door. She instantly wanted to shut it again, hide from whatever bad news Officer Bridges had come to deliver, but instead she pulled it open all the way and said, "Come in," in as welcoming a voice as she could. She was good at faking pleasantries.

Officer Bridges stepped inside. Her gaze floated over the room until it landed on the entrance to the living room and spotted the mysterious missing child playing innocently with another boy about his age who resembled the woman before her. She raised her eyebrows at Donna. "You have a kid? We could have found another guardian, you know, if you already have your hands full . . ."

She trailed off when Donna shook her head vigorously. "No. I enjoy spending time with Kurt. He's such a sweet boy. Not to mention him and Blaine hit it off instantly. I've never seen him this comfortable around someone his own age before."

Officer Bridges shocked. "He told you his name?" she asked, astonished. "Why didn't you contact us? This could have narrowed the search considerably!" She was taken aback by Donna's careless mistake.

Donna shook her head though. "He didn't tell us his name. He _can't_ tell us his name. I told you the last time; I think he's mute. Blaine started calling him Kurt and he seemed to like it so it just kind of stuck." She noticed the look the officer was giving her. "Well, we had to call him _something_."

Officer Bridges laughed. "I suppose so, although I do wonder how your son came up with 'Kurt'. Not exactly a common name." Her smile slipped away. "We should get started though. I have something important to discuss with you." Donna felt herself go cold. She was dreading this. In this past week she'd come to love Kurt. He was one of the sweetest children she had ever met. Bright, kind and optimistic, she didn't know how she _couldn't_ have fallen in love with him. Whether Officer Bridges took Kurt back to a good home, or he stayed because of a bad one, the news was going to hurt.

She turned and watched as Blaine pointed at something Kurt held and asked a question. Kurt turned red and instantly set it down, scooting himself away from it and Blaine, his gaze fixed on the floor. As he moved out of the way, she saw it was a small blonde doll in a fancy dress. A princess.

Blaine—her sweet, wonderful boy—looked alarmed by the shame on Kurt's face. He looked from the Kurt to the doll back to Kurt. He stood up and walked over to the toy box, rooting around for something. Finally, he emerged, clutching whatever it was close to his chest as he went back and sat down next to Kurt. Picking up the princess doll, he handed it to Kurt. The poor confused boy took it like it was some shameful secret being held out for the world to see. Blaine watched him for a moment, then showed Kurt the item he had gotten from the toy box. Another princess. Kurt's eyes widened with surprise and he looked up to search Blaine's face. Then his face split into a wide smile.

Officer Bridges smiled softly. "That's some boy you've got there," she commented.

Donna felt pride well up inside of her for her son. "Yeah. He's special." She stepped forawrd into the room. Both boys looked up at her curiously, then at the tall blonde woman dressed as a police officer behind her. All color drained from their faces and in a gesture that was so automatic that Donna was almost sure it was done unconsciously, Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand, holding it tightly. "Boys," she said, her voice tight, "Officer Bridges and I have to discuss some things. Could you play upstairs for me, just for a bit?"

she didn't need to ask twice. Blaine stood quickly and pulled Kurt behind him, off towards the stairs. When he passed Officer Bridges, Donna was shocked by the dark look that crossed his soft features. She'd never seen that look on him before and it didn't suit his open face. The two woman waited until the boy disappeared from the landing and heard a door shut to look at each other, both grave.

"Let's sit," Officer Bridges said and Donna readily agreed. They seated themselves in the same positions as before, Officer Bridges on the couch and Donna perched nervously on the edge of a fancy antique armchair. She twisted her hands nervously.

"So, we searched through all the missing children reports for someone matching . . ." She hesitated for moment. "Someone matching _Kurt's_ description. We tried locally first, here in Westerville, but there were no matches. The only children missing here are both little girls." She bit her lip. "So then we tried the surrounding areas. Unfortunately there were still no matches. We did all of Ohio and there were no matches." She leaned forward, looking intently into Donna's eyes. "Mrs. Anderson, we waited a week to contact you because we tried to match Kurt to every database we could find in the _country_. We compared the pictures of possible matches to Kurt. Not one of them was him." Her voice was intense and so was her gaze.

Donna was confused. "What do you mean, he didn't match any of them? He has to have come from _somewhere_. He didn't just appear out of thin air."

The officer nodded. "No, but we believe Kurt is homeless. Possibly an orphan. Whatever the case he's in a situation where when he went missing, no one could report it. Do you understand what I'm telling you?" Her gaze bore into Donna's. The dark haired woman could only shake her head in disbelief. "On paper, Kurt doesn't exist. We take him home if he doesn't have one. We'll keep looking, of course, in case we missed something, but I doubt it'll make a difference. We were thorough." Her gaze flickered towards the stairs then back to Donna.

Donna, for her part, felt horrified. She remembered the way Kurt had dove into the food that had been put in front of him, as if he'd never been fed properly. The way he acted with Blaine's toys like he'd never had any of his own. No wonder he was so dirty when they found him, so jumpy. The poor boy. She wanted to cry for him, pull him into a hug and hold him until he knew he was safe now.

Seeing the look on her face, Officer Bridges decided to broach the topic she had been building towards. "Of course we're going to need to place him somewhere. Adoption would be ideal, but he's probably going to be put into the system. Lots of kids stay in it until they're eighteen. We try our best, but there are a lot of kids that need placement and not enough homes willing to take them." She wasn't subtle and Donna wasn't oblivious.

"I'll do it," she said without a moment's hesitation. "I want him to come with us. I'll adopt him." Her voice didn't hold a waver of doubt and Officer Bridges couldn't help but smile at her.

"Somehow I knew you were going to say that." She pulled a stack of papers from her bag. "You'll need to sign these, and then there's more procedures you'll have to follow. You'll have to get approved for adoption, but I don't think that will be a problem. You already have one wonderful son. Who's to say you can't handle two?"

Donna blinked. "Blaine's not my only child."

Officer Bridges looked surprised. "He's not?" she asked, looking around the house as if another child might be hiding somewhere.

"We're here on vacation, just me and Blaine," Donna explained. "This is my sister's house. I have two sons, Mark and Reese, and two daughters, Marissa and Penny. They're back home in New York."

A look of shock crossed the blonde woman's face. "You have that many kids and you're still willing to adopt another one? I couldn't handle one kid, let alone _six _of them." She shook her head in amazement. "You're on hell of a woman, you know that?"

Donna glowed with the compliment. "Thank you." She took the papers and filed through them, reading each carefully before filling it out. She was a lawyer's wife, through and through. It took quite a quite, but eventually she got down to the last paper. After signing her name in elegant script, she handed them back to Officer Bridges.

"This is only the first step, but I don't think you'll have any problems. You can even have his name changed to Kurt legally, if he won't tell you what it really what it is," the woman told her, standing. "I think it's safe to tell you congratulations on your new son. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Anderson." She held out her hand for a handshake and Donna accepted it gratefully.

"It should be me thanking you," she told her. "It was so nice to meet you." She smiled and the taller woman smiled back, then graciously took her leave.

Donna felt a warm coil of happiness inside of her. She had never, _never_ imagined this outcome. Kurt was hers, or at least he would be. The thought of tucking him in every night and kissing him on the forehead made her heart skip and her stomach tingle in excitement. And Blaine . . . She briefly imagined his face when she told him the news. Briefly because once the image formed in her head, she took off for the Blaine's room. She knew he would feel just as happy as she did, if not even more so. And she was right. When she burst into the room, bursting with the news, both boys sat in a stunned silence for a moment. Then Blaine jumped up and with an exclamation of happiness, threw his arms around her. In that moment, they were united in their thoughts.

Kurt was theirs, and no one was going to take him away. Not as long as the Andersons has anything to say about it.

**There you are! Personally, I'm not fond of this chapter, but I hope you all like it. R&R, as usual! The next chapter will have a bit of a time skip, but not by much. It will be Donna, Blaine and Kurt back in New York where he (and all of you) will be introduced to the rest of the Anderson family. And are any of you wondering why Donna didn't ask her husband about all of this before hand? So is he . . .**


	7. Chapter 6: Coming Home

** Alright, here's the next installment in OBB&SS. It's the longest one yet by far which is why it's taken me three days to update when I told a few of you it would only take one. I'd like to say thank you to the people who returned to reading this story after such a long wait and welcome to the newcomers. You guys are great. This chapter is dedicated to CrissColferCrowe, the first reviewer of the new chapter. **

**Warnings: None for this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If I owned Glee, Kurt and Blaine would have never broken up. EVER.**

** PS: This story so far has gone unbeta'd. If anyone would like to beta for this story, I would really appreciate it.**

**Chapter 6: Coming Home**

Back in New York, the unsuspecting Andersons were going about their lives as usual. While Donna was signing papers to adopt Kurt, Mark was coming home from college during a short break between semesters. Pulling up in front of the mansion—yes, _mansion_—he parked his cherry red Ferrari in the garage in between his yellow Lamborghini and navy blue convertible. Mark was into cars. He owned eleven so far.

He hadn't warned the rest of his family he was coming home, so Marissa started when he slammed the door open and walked in, plopping down on the couch with absolutely no intention of moving for the next few hours at least. College involved way more studying than he'd thought it would and he was excited to just _relax_. He snatched the remote from next to Marissa without a word and turned on _Spongebob Squarepants_, leaning back into the plush couch and propping his feet up on the coffee table. She blinked at him, stunned.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked indignantly when she recovered. "I was _watching_ that. You can't just walk in and change it. And get you're feet off the coffee table. It's an antique. If Mom was here, you'd so be dead right now. Not to mention: _Spongebob_? Seriously? Sometimes I can't tell you and Reese apart. It's a little kids show, Mark. Grow up a little." She said all of this without taking a breath. Mark rolled his eyes and groaned in exasperation.

"Wow, Rissy, nice to see you too. College is great, thanks for asking. But, you know, it's just wasn't the same with you nagging my ear off. Oh, the days have been so long without you." Marissa shot him a withering look, but years of being on the receiving end of her glares and barbs had allowed Mark to build a up a certain immunity. He ignored her in favor of Spongebob looking for Gary. Realizing she wasn't going to get the remote back, Marissa intensified her glare but settled back into the couch nonetheless. They were quiet for a couple of minutes before Marissa couldn't hold it in anymore. "Why are you here?" she asked. "You should be in school. Don't tell me they already kicked you out because you're failing."

It was Mark's turn to glare, although despite his 6'4" of bulging muscles, it was more impressive on Marissa. "I'm not an idiot. If I tank my grades, I can't play and I'm _not_ gonna let that happen." Mark was the star freshman quarterback at Benting University, a school famous for their football team. No one doubted Mark would go on to the NFL. He loved for football more than anything and had centered his whole future around it.

"Well, then why are you home, Marissa prodded. Mark cast her a nasty glance and hit pause on the TV. An old woman froze in the middle of throwing her cookie shurikens at Gary.

"It's in between semesters. What, me being home not fit into your precious schedule?" Marissa was the most organized person he'd ever met. She arranged everything and hated when things disrupted the schedule she set for herself. It made her grumpy.

Realizing this, she leaned over and pulled Mark into a hug. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice tired. He wrapped his arms around her without protest. His sister's micromanaging got on his nerves, but he was an easygoing guy and never held a grudge. Something in her voice bothered him though. She seemed edgy and tense—even more than usual, that is.

He pulled back and searched her face. Her sharp dark blue eyes seemed duller than usual and there were bags under them. She noticed his scrutiny and pursed her lips. "Things haven't been going well," she told him.

Mark was worried. "What's wrong? Are Mom and Dad fighting again?" Every Anderson child's worst nightmare was Donna and Joseph going at it. They were both stubborn, powerful and viscious when they got angry. Normally it caused all sorts of problems for their kids. Joseph spent a lot of time out of state, so it didn't happen too often, but it was bad when it did.

Marissa shook her head, raven curls bouncing. That was something Mark hadn't noticed. His sister usually wore her hair back in a tight ponytail, but now it was hanging freely around her face. He wondered if she liked it this way now or if she was just too preoccupied to do anything with it. "Things with Blaine are really bad right now," she told him and Mark felt his stomach clench. Blaine had . . . well, he wouldn't call it coming out, but he had told them there was some boy he thought was cute in his class. That was a while ago, before Mark left. After that, he watched his open, friendly brother suddenly given the cold shoulder by his friends, and that was when he was lucky. That little bastard Heath had gone around and spread lies about Blaine. He'd tried to spend as much time as he could with Blaine, but he could see that Blaine was sinking into a depression no kid his age should have to feel.

"What happened? Is he okay?" Mark asked, craning his neck for a look around as if Blaine might be hiding behind the couch. Blaine had barely left home for months even before Mark left. "Where is he?"

Marissa sighed and leaned onto Mark's shoulder. He instantly wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She seemed really upset, which was rare for her. _She must be really worried_, he thought. "He's not here. Mom took him to Aunt Robyn's house in Ohio. She thought a break might help him, but I don't think—" She cut herself off and looked at him, eyes more uncertain than he had ever seen them. "You haven't seen him lately. He's gotten so much worse. He barely talks to us and spends all of his time alone. I don't think I've seen him smile in . . . I don't even know how long! He's always sad. He thinks there's something wrong with him and that's why those little _brats_ won't play with him." The way she said brats, Mark could tell she wanted to say something a lot stronger. He couldn't argue there. "I don't know what to do, Mark. I don't know how to help him." Her voice cracked a little.

Mark was stunned. Marissa was always well put together. She never gave into worries and doubts like this. He could count one one hand the number of times he'd seen her poker face slip like this. It always made him feel useless when she did because he could deal with controlling, uptight Marissa. This Marissa, the one with tears swimming in her eyes from worry? He didn't know how to handle this one.

He wanted to punch someone. He wanted to protect his brother. He wanted to do something besides sit here and worry with Marissa, which was exactly what he _could_ do. It just wasn't fair. Blaine didn't deserve this. Why couldn't he catch a break? He got enough crap from Dad—

He gripped Marissa's shoulders tighter. "Has Dad said anything to him?" he asked a controlled voice that didn't match the anger bubbling his stomach. Their dad was a complete bastard to Blaine ever since he found out his son didn't like girls. It helped that he wasn't around much, but being rejected by your own dad was enough to mess with any kid.

Marissa tensed. "He hasn't talked to Dad since you left, but you should here the way dad talks about him. We're all ignoring him right now. Even Mom doesn't want to talk to him. The worst part is he doesn't even seem to care. It's like we're all optional and he's just fine without us." She sat up and he let go of her. She looked worn out. "I'm going to go take a shower. Can you go pick Reese and Penny up? Reese is at soccer practice and Penny's at ballet."

Mark nodded, relieved to finally have something he could do. "Yeah, that's fine." He reached for the remote—it had been discarded onto the far end of the couch—and turned off the TV. The old woman's frozen face disappeared.

While he was grabbing his shoes and coat, Marissa's cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and checked the screen. "It's Mom," she told him, then answered it. "Hi, Mom," she said. She paused for a second. "Yeah, but why do you—" Another pause as she was cut off. "What are you talking about?" And then, as he was closing the door behind him, he heard her yell, "_What?!_"

Donna hit the end call button on her phone. Marissa hadn't taken that well, but it would have been worse if she'd told anyone else first. At least she'd be able to deliver the news calmly to everyone else so they weren't blindsided when she came home with one more child than she left with. She wasn't too worried about the rest of her kids. She knew they'd take to Kurt immediately, just like Blaine had. If you could say one thing about Donna Anderson, it was that she knew her family.

Unfortunately, she knew her husband just as well as her kids and he was not going to like this. Especially since she hadn't bothered to talk to him. Donna hadn't talked to Joseph for months, and she had no regrets about this. Her only worry was that he would treat Kurt the way he had started to treat Blaine, or maybe be even worse. Whatever their relationship, Blaine was still his son. Kurt was not.

Well, she would deal with that obstacle if and when it came up. She smiled at Kurt, who sat next to Blaine across the aisle from her. He was looking out the window of the plane and nervously picking at his nails, which despite Donna's best efforts still had dirt crusted under them. Blaine was trying to soothe his nerves, but so far he hadn't succeeded. They were on their way back to New York and it seemed Kurt was more than a little nervous to meet the rest of the Anderson family.

She listened as Blaine reassured Kurt. "It'll be fine. Mark, my big brother, he's really nice. He plays with me all the time when he's not at college and I'm sure he'll play with you too. Marissa's my big sister. Sometimes she can be kind of strict, but she's nice and she always helps with homework. My little brother's name is Reese. He's really hyper all of the time, so Mom makes him play soccer to keep him from breaking stuff in the house. She never really got over the last lamp he broke . . . or the vase . . . or the TV. And Penny, she's my little sister. She's kind of annoying and doesn't really like anybody, but she's alright if you don't let her get to you. And my dad . . ." Here Blaine trailed off, a lost look crossing his face. "My dad, he's great." That marked he end of Blaine's rambling and he sunk back into his chair. Kurt gave him an inquiring look but seemed to sense it wasn't the right time to ask and went back to staring out the window.

Donna felt a twinge of sorrow and anger. Sorrow for her son who couldn't even mention his father without sinking back into the depression that had gripped him for months now. Anger for Joseph for making him like that. Whatever nasty shock he got when she came home with Kurt, he deserved it. To be completely honest, Donna had been considering divorce for a while now. She loved Joseph and knew she always would, but she couldn't bring herself to stay with someone so bigoted against his own son. Against her Blaine.

She had yet to discuss this with him, but things were drawing to a climax. She knew bringing Kurt home would probably be the catalyst. Her only regret would be putting the kids through all of this. It was the only reason she hadn't already brought it up to Joseph.

Donna turned to her son. "Blaine," she said in soft voice, "it'll be alright." He turned his little face up to her and she wanted to pull him into her arms and pull him close until the rest world just melted away. "It'll be alright," she repeated and he just nodded, accepting her word.

She was going to make sure she kept it, somehow.

They touched down in New York a while later. Donna was worried about the effect the huge masses of people would have on Kurt who seemed skittish enough when it was just her and Blaine, but once again he shocked her. Instead of turning into a trembling mess as she had expected, he stared in wonder as each surge of people passed them. He was openly gawking the hoards. She couldn't help but find it extremely amusing. "It's a little busy, isn't it?" she asked him, trying not to let her amusement shine in her voice. She failed miserably, but he was too distracted to notice.

Blaine was positively glowing as Kurt took in the hustle and bustle of the airport. Kurt's excitement seemed to have melted away the sadness and she knew right then that whatever anyone else told her, she had made the right decision.

They retrieved their luggage and set off, pushing through the crowd. Donna made sure to hold tightly onto Blaine's hand who, in turn, clutched at Kurt's. Finally, Donna spotted a white sign in the air that said _ANDERSON_ on it. She forced her way towards it until she could make out her chauffeur, Patrick. He was a hard man to miss. At 6'3", he was almost as tall as Mark. He didn't spot her until she was bit closer—her 5'7" form was harder to see through the crowd. As she drew closer, he saw her and lowered the sign, making his way towards her.

When they got close enough to talk, Patrick nodded at Donna and said, "Good to see you, ma'am." His voice was stiff and held the slightest hint of a Scottish accent.

Donna smiled at him wryly. "Still as formal as ever, I see," she commented. "I was hoping a break from the stuffy rich woman who forces you to drive her around the busy streets of New York might have lightened you up a little, but apparently it was a vain hope."

Patrick's eye twitched, but all he said was, "Yes, ma'am." Donna sighed. Patrick peered around her at Blaine. "Good to see you as well, Master Blaine. Has Ohio's—" He paused. "—_quaintness_ refreshed you?"

Blaine beamed at the tall man. "Patrick! Guess what? I have another brother now!" he exclaimed innocently.

Patrick spluttered. Apparently, whatever answer he had been expecting, that had not been it. "You . . . what?" he asked, then immediately turned to Donna for explanation. She laughed at the alarmed expression on his face. It was right at that moment Kurt stepped forward and grabbed onto Patrick's sleeve, tugging on it for attention.

Patrick looked down and nearly had a heart attack. "Ma'am!" he exclaimed. "What is the meaning of this?!" Looking down at the ten-year-old next to him, he asked her in a lowered voice so that only she could hear, "Is he an . . . is he _illegitimate_?"

Donna's back straightened and she whipped him with a glare so sharp he actually flinched. "Are you suggesting that I have ever been unfaithful to my husband?" she asked in an icy voice.

Patrick swallowed. "No, of course not. Ma'am. But, uh, if he's not—" She glared again and changed tactics. "Where exactly did he come from?"

Donna grabbed Kurt's shoulders and pulled her against him. "He's adopted. Now, I'm willing to tell you the rest later, Patrick, but right now I'd like to go home to my family who I haven't seen in quite a while." Her voice was pointed and Patrick immediately began to lead them to the car with another, "Ma'am," thrown in for good measure.

"She did _what_?!" Mark yelled into the phone, nearly swerving into the car next to him. Penny gave a yelp as Reese slid into her. He cast a glance back at his little siblings. "Guys, seat belts! You're old enough to know that."

He heard Marissa sigh, obviously frustrated. "I don't know what she's thinking. All I know is what I said; that is to say, not much. She said she adopted some kid in Ohio and was brining him home to meet all of us. Also, we have to be nice or she'll gleefully disinherit us." He could practically see her wrinkled forehead as she tried to figure out the enigma that was their mom.

Mark didn't quite know what to think about this. It was just so out there. "Mom's does stuff without thinking, but this . . ." He didn't finish his sentence. He couldn't. What was there to say?"Did she say _why_ she . . ." He hesitated, looking back at Reese and Penny. "Why she did it?" he tried instead.

Marissa growled. "I already told you everything I know!" He could hear the tense edge to her voice. Being in the dark about this was absolutely _killing_ her. "She'll be home today, but she didn't when. Maybe she's on her way home right now, maybe she'll be back tonight. Either way, you better get home quick."

Mark nodded, then remembered that Marissa couldn't actually see him. "Yeah. I'm on my way home right now. Be there ten minutes tops." He cast a look at the backseat again and lowered his voice so that only he and Marissa could hear his next words. "What should I tell Reese and Penny about all this?"

"Nothing," she said curtly. "Let Mom explain. It's the least she can do. I mean, does she ever even _think_?" Marissa was angry at their mom and Mark could tell. He wondered if her should feel angry too. It wasn't exactly the word he would use to describe how he was feeling. To be honest, he didn't know how to feel.

A thought occurred him. "Oh god," he breathed. "Do you think she's told Dad yet?" He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone. "Crap. He is going to _flip_. Does she want him to lose it?" A thought occurred to him "You think that's why she's doing this? To piss of Dad?" If it was, he couldn't argue with her idea. Dad deserved to be pissed off for how he was treating Blaine. But adopting a kid to do it?

Marissa voice crackled on the other end of the line as he passed through a spot of bad reception. "I don't know—that doesn't seem like Mom. But . . . if it is, she needs to realize it's not fair to anyone else. Not to us, not to that kid." It was a second before Mark realized she'd hung up the phone. He put it back in his pocket and sighed. Well, _this_ would be fun.

When they exited the airport, Kurt stopped, his mouth dropping open and eyes widening in amazement. Those buildings were so _tall_! Cars and taxis whipped by in heavy traffic. The streets were just as crowded as the airport. Street venders called out to passersby. Everything was so big and busy. Kurt had never seen anything like it. It was _wonderful. _It was everything he'd dreamed about since he was a little kid. He was supposed to go with Mommy, but then she'd had her accident. And Daddy had said—

Kurt stopped himself. No. He was not going to let Daddy take this away from him. Daddy was gone. He was free. Real free, not like he'd been since he ran away, starving and dirty and completely alone. Donna and Blaine said he was an Anderson now and so far he liked it much better than being a Hummel.

His awe completely overrode his nerves about meeting the rest of the Andersons. Blaine said they were all really nice, but Kurt wasn't sure they'd like him. Daddy always used to tell him he was broken and no good. What if they thought so too? What if they thought he was a 'fag' like Daddy? He didn't know what that meant, but he didn't need too. The word made horrible shivers run up and down his spine.

While Kurt was amazed by the wonders of New York City, he was even more blindsided by Donna and Blaine. Not only had they taken him out of the cold, given him food and a bed and clothes, but they actually wanted him. Forever. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Why? What did they see when they looked at him besides a girly mute? He didn't know, but he was just so glad Blaine liked him—

Kurt blushed. He shouldn't think about Blaine like that. It was wrong. Daddy wasn't the only one who said so; _everyone_ said so. The other kids, the teachers, the church Mommy used to take him to. Probably Donna and Blaine too. He wasn't going to let them find out, just in case.

It turned out the 'car' Donna had talked about was a limo. A _limo_. Kurt had never even dreamed he'd get to ride in one. It was huge inside, although Kurt supposed that made sense with how big the Anderson family was. There was a mini fridge and a TV, video games and drinks and snacks. It had everything. As they rode through the city, Blaine rolled down one of the tinted windows so he could point out the interesting parts of New York they passed. Kurt listened intently, fascinated. Blaine looked so excited as he pointed things out like he was the one seeing all this for the first time. It was really cute.

Kurt sunk in his seat. He was not allowed to think Blaine was cute.

It took a long time to get there even though they didn't travel that far. The traffic here was so dense. It was like trying to push through all those people at the airport, but in a car. Finally, they pulled onto a road that was surprisingly empty. Confused, Kurt looked around. It was a small solitary road and completely void of any other cars. Why?

He wished for the millionth time since meeting Blaine that he could speak, that he wasn't so _broken_. He hadn't wished for that in years. He had no reason to speak before, so he stopped, but now that he wanted to he couldn't make the words come out. Somehow, he'd lost his voice in the years of keeping silent. So he was forced to settle for tugging on Blaine's sleeve. The older boy looked at him with his big hazel eyes. "What's wrong," he asked Kurt in a sweetly concerned voice.

Kurt pointed outside where the empty space was slowly being filled in by trees and raised an eyebrow. Blaine got the point very quickly. He didn't seem at all fazed by Kurt's lack of words, which just made Kurt want to speak all the more. "We don't actually live _in_ the city," Blaine explained. "We live in a mansion out here." Both of Kurt's eyebrows shot up this time. Mansion?

Blaine laughed. "Yeah. Lots of people act like that. Heath—" Blaine stopped talking abruptly, his lips forming a thin line. "Never mind." He pushed himself back into the seat properly, apparently done talking. He looked upset and Kurt caught the pitying look of worry Donna was throwing in her son's direction. He knew there was something he was missing here, just like when Blaine didn't want to talk about his dad, but he thought it wouldn't be nice to make Blaine tell him something he didn't want to. He settled into the silence instead, waiting to arrive at the mansion.

Even though he hadn't believed in God since Mommy died, he sent up a quick payer, just in case. _Please, God. If you're real, then please let them like me._

When the limo pulled up in front of the Anderson mansion, Blaine felt apprehension curling in his stomach despite how many times he had told Kurt things would be fine. What if they _didn't_ like Kurt? What would they do then? And Dad . . . what if he was mean to Kurt, like he'd been to Blaine lately? Maybe he'd make Donna give Kurt to one of the foster homes she'd told him about.

He shuddered. Already he couldn't imagine his life without Kurt in it. It was strange, but he felt like he'd known Kurt his entire life. It wasn't like Kurt was a part of his life now. It was like Kurt was already a part of it, and now he wasn't missing anymore. Kurt was nice, smart, funny and interesting. He wanted to know everything about the boy and now he was getting a chance to. He didn't know if he'd ever forgive his dad for taking that chance away.

The mention of Heath had put Blaine in a slump. He had actually managed to forget about the betrayal for a while, but now it all came rushing back. Heath and Blaine on the playground playing kickball. Heath gaping at his house the first time he came over. The smile he used to give Blaine whenever he said something right. The look of utter disgust on his face when he told everyone Blaine had tried to kiss him,

As Patrick pulled the limo to a stop, Blaine turned to Kurt and grabbed his hand. Who needed Heath? He had a _new_ best friend, one who was way nicer and liked _The Sound of Music_. With Kurt, there were no right answers. Kurt actually wanted to hear what he had to say. He should just forget about Heath. It might work too. Until he was back in school, that is. There was no escaping Heath there.

He dragged Kurt out of the car, bouncing in excitement and anticipation. This was it. Kurt and his family were finally going to meet. He couldn't wait. They were going to _love_ him. Why wouldn't they? He was sweet and nice and absolutely _perfect._

He could feel the tension rolling off Kurt in waves. His face was torn between nervous and horrified. Blaine gave their linked hands a reassuring squeeze and gave him the most encouraging, confident smile he could muster. It seemed to work because Kurt squeezed back. His hand was tiny and delicate. It felt nice in Blaine's hand, completely natural like it belonged there.

"It'll be fine," Blaine assured him. "Come on!" He tugged Kurt towards the house (the term "house" was used loosely of course) but stopped when Donna called out to them.

"Blaine! Kurt! Wait for me." She was walking slowly towards them, apparently not feeling the excitement Blaine did. He bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently.

"Come _on_, Mom," he whined. "You're not that old. Hurry up!" Donna looked miffed but complied, picking up her pace. It was a wonder she could walk at all in her high heels.

She drew level with them. "Alright," she said, steeling herself. "Let's go." they set off towards the doors. _I hope Dad's not here, _Blaine thought, then instantly felt guilty. It was his dad. He shouldn't think things like that.

They entered through the large wooden double doors. Donna and Blaine removed their shoes as soon as they walked in. Kurt looked at them for a second then hesitantly followed suit. "We've always done this," Blaine whispered to him. "The only one who doesn't is Mark and Mom yells at him all the time about it." Kurt nodded, showing he understood. Shoes off when in the house.

Blaine heard stomping on the stairs and moments later, Marissa appeared in the doorway. She was frowning at them, her eyes instantly raking over them and locking onto Kurt. Her frown deepened, her lips parted and her eyes widened a little.

Blaine was suddenly conscious of how Kurt looked. Not just his porcelain skin, pink lips and delicate form. He was aware of how his clothes hung too big on him, showing off how the skin stretched too tight over his bones. He was aware of the dark purple circles under Kurt's eyes and the small scratches and bruises that littered his skin. He was aware of how Kurt's chestnut brown hair hung limply, partially concealing his face. And he was aware of how Kurt was trembling and trying to not squirm under her gaze.

He grabbed the scared boy's hand comfortingly. Marissa's eyebrows shot up but she didn't mention it. Instead she said, "So that's . . ."

Donna supplied the words her daughter seemed unable to say. "This is Kurt," she said firmly, laying her hands on his shoulders in a gesture that was both comforting and protective. "He's your new brother."

Steel flashed in Marissa eyes. "Hmm."

Donna ignored the tension and asked, "Where's everyone else?"

Marissa flipped her hair over her shoulder haughtily. "Why do you care? If we can't find them, you can just adopt new kids." Her voice was like ice and Kurt winced. Blaine knew he sensed the barbs his sister was sending at them clearly.

To his surprise, that last part seemed to make his mom wince as well. She looked up at Marissa, shocked and sad. "Oh, honey. I'm not . . ." She trailed off, her expression glazed as if trapped in a memory.

Blaine tried to break the tension. "Hi, Marissa!" he said in as happy a voice as he could. His sister looked at him and smiled a little.

"Hi, Blainey-bear," she said to his utter mortification. He turned wide, horrified eyes on Kurt. He was going to die from embarrassment, right there and then. Good bye, cruel world.

"Don't call me that!" he yelped, turning bright red. "I am _eleven_!" Seriously. Sisters, ugh.

Her amused smile faded when she looked back at Kurt. "You should bring him upstairs, I guess." She disappeared from the doorway and he heard foot falls on the stairs. They all looked at each other

Donna made to follow her daughter. "Come up when you're ready," she told them softly. Then she headed upstairs.

The boys looked at each other. Kurt began to wave his hands frantically. His eyes were panicked and Blaine could tell he'd only just barely held it together until now. His hand gestures were wild and confusing. Blaine had no idea what he was trying to say but the general idea was clear: _I am freaking out!_

Blaine reached forward and turned Kurt to face him, catching both his flailing hands in his own and looking straight into his eyes and _god_ were they beautiful. He tried to think of something inspirational he could say, but only one thing came to mind.

"Courage," he told Kurt, voice steady and more confident than he felt.

Kurt looked at him for a moment, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy. The single word resounded between them. They were both silent and still, waiting for the other one to break. Neither did. Kurt's breathing slowly began to even out and his muscles relaxed. He nodded once at Blaine, who breathed a sigh of relief.

He let go of one of Kurt's hands, but kept a hold of one. "Are you ready?" he asked. Kurt nodded, not looking ready, but Blaine supposed there would never be a time when he was ready for this. "All right. Let's go." They headed off to face the rest of the Anderson family.

** There you go! Sorry about the ending; I know it sucks. And I'm sorry for anyone who was looking forward to Kurt meeting all of the Andersons, but this just felt like the right place to leave it. Plus, it was getting long and I wanted to give you guys an update. We got to meet Marissa (not the happiest person, is she?) and Mark (I really like his character). We'll see more of them, Reese and Penny next chapter. I'm not sure whether or not Joseph will be in it or not. And Marissa's character won't stay so unlikable. She's just kind of thrown off balance right now by all of this (who wouldn't be?) and is responding with hostility. She'll warm up to Kurt. Plus, she mellows with age.**

** The results to my poll asking how much I should show of Blaine and Kurt growing up is closed. The results say you want to see them grow up before Dalton, but only for a few chapters. That was my original intention, but then I decided to leave it up to you guys. Glad you agree!**

**Oh, and a hint for anyone interested. Did anyone else find Donna's and Marissa's exchange a little strange? Like, maybe for a second they were talking about something else? Hmm . . . **


	8. Chapter 7: Meet the Andersons

** Alright, so I know I said I was going to update every week, but I'm realizing that is just not going to happen. School work, constant computer problems and writer's block all hate me. I'm not dropping this story and I will still be updating, but I have no idea when those updates are going to come. (Hint: not to bribe you guys or anything, but reviews do motivate me)**

** I've been spending a lot of my time working on an original story too. Maybe I'll post a bit of it and ask what you guys think once I've got more of it done. Would you guys like that?**

** Anyway, here's what I've kept you waiting for. Chapter 7 of OBB&SS!**

_**Chapter 7: Meet the Andersons**_

The Anderson 's second story living room was arguably the most comfortable in the house. It's couches were all plush and inviting, you could easily sink into the chairs and never get up again, the walls were painted a relaxing shade of blue and there was enough room for the entire family to feel comfortable in there.

However, throw in one ten-year-old boy and it seemed the room suddenly ceased being comfortable.

The only Anderson in the room who looked relaxed was Penny, but she was only five, much too young to pick up on the palpable tension in the air. Marissa leaned against one of the walls (despite the fact that there were more than enough seats for everyone), her arms folded and her shoulders hunched in a stance that seemed both hostile and defensive. Donna was wringing her hands, perched nervously on the edge of her seat. Mark was shifting uncomfortably, unable to find a position that let his muscles block out the tension and just relax. Reese was bouncing hyperactively, eager to find out what was going on. Blaine was sitting in a rigid position next to Kurt, clutching the younger boy's hand tightly in his. This might have been because he was trying to comfort the boy or it might have been because Kurt looked ready to bolt at any moment.

Donna was the first to break the silence. "So, Marissa has undoubtedly told all of you about Kurt." She looked at Mark, Reese and Penny for confirmation. Mark nodded, but Reese glared at his sister.

"No. she won't tell us _anything_. I told you Marissa's mean."

Donna looked in her daughter's direction, but didn't meet her eyes. Her expression should have come been cross, but instead she looked guilty. Marissa looked coldly back. "If you're going to go do stupid stuff without thinking about the rest of us, you can deal with the fallout. Go ahead, tell them what you did." _She's merciless, _Kurt noted. _But Blaine said she was nice. Is this really the same girl?_ He pondered the thought and then realized dejectedly, _Maybe she just doesn't like me. _He sank back into the couch and made himself even smaller, if possible. Blaine's hand tightened around his even further. It was nice to know Blaine was trying to make him feel better and Kurt wasn't going to tell him that the vice-like grip was beginning to hurt a little.

Donna turned to her two youngest. Her expression was uncertain and it was obvious she hadn't planned on having to deliver the news herself. Kurt already loved Donna dearly—two years of being depraved of any kind of warmth made her practically an angel in his eyes—but he couldn't help but feel it was a little hypocritical of her to expect Melissa to deliver news she herself didn't want to give. _I'm causing so much trouble for them already. I do nothing but make people miserable. Why did I think a new city or a new family would make a difference?_

Donna's mouth opened a few times but no sound came out. Finally she cleared her throat and managed, "Kids, I have some, um, big news that I have to tell you." Her statement sounded more like a question.

Reese was bursting with curiosity, completely oblivious to the direction this was heading, but Penny looked at her mother calmly and pointed one thin finger at Kurt. "Is it about him?" Her voice was like wind chimes, smooth and calm. The words sounded like music, but they had an oddly flat sound to them as if Penny was indifferent to the entire situation. She oddly mature and composed for a five year old. Actually, she was oddly composed for _anyone_ in this situation, Kurt noted.

Donna nodded. Now that Penny had addressed the pink elephant in the room—or rather the strange ten-year-old boy cowering into their couch—she seemed to have a little more confidence in her words. She sat up straighter. "Yes, it is. Penny, Reese, I would like you to meet Kurt Anderson." She looked at her children expectantly.

Penny seemed to understand. Her eyes widened a little, but she seemed otherwise unfazed. Her deep blue eyes turned on him appraisingly. Kurt squirmed. Although Penny had inherited her mother's eyes, there was something cold and analytical in hers that Donna's lacked. It unnerved Kurt.

On the other hand, it seemed Donna's subtle message had went right over Reese's head. "That's so cool! Our last name is Anderson too," he informed Kurt. He saw Donna bite her lip.

She spoke again, her voice strained. "Reese, Kurt will be staying with us from now on. I adopted him in Ohio. He's a part of the family now." She put extra emphasis on her last words. "_He's your brother now_." She searched her son's face anxiously, waiting for a reaction.

Reese has frozen in his bouncing, His eyes widened, his jaw went slack and he slowly turned to look at Kurt in disbelief. "He . . . what?" His voice was much quieter now.

Marissa was wearing a triumphant look on her face, but she still looked more angry and hurt than smug. She glared at her mother. "See? I told you. You never think about us when you do stuff like this. Nobody _wants_ him here."

The second the words left her mouth, Marissa's eyes widened and she snapped her mouth shut as if she could trap them there, but it was too late. A silence fell on the room and it seemed like the silence made the words echo until they were unbearably loud in Kurt's mind.

_nobodywantsyouherenobodywantsyouhereNOBODYWANTSYOU HERE_

Kurt felt a tremor run through his body. He closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths, but the breaths that came were short and shallow. His ears rang with the words. He felt like his blood had suddenly been set on fire and his body burned with pain. Things stirred in his mind no matter how hard he tried to hold them down.

_"You little __fag__. Why don't you just __**die**__? Everyone would be happier. Nobody wants you here." _

It was a lie, right? It had to be a lie.

_"What, you thought I loved you? Who could ever love something as disgusting and wrong as you?"_

But Donna had said . . .

_ "Hey, get out of here, princess! Nobody wants to play with you. We'll catch your gay."_

No . . .

_"Just die already. All you're doing is taking up space. Go on, DO IT!"_

Kurt's world went black before the memory was even through.

Kurt's small frame toppled forward as his body went limp. Blaine lunged forward and made a grab for him, barely managing to keep the small boy from falling off the couch. He heaved Kurt back into a sitting position, carefully laying his head back against the cushion. He noted the boy's breathing was quick and shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Reese looked around at them, wide eyed. Even Penny, who Blaine rarely saw taken by surprise, seemed to be shocked at Kurt's sudden collapse. Her eyes were glued to Kurt's limp form. "What happened?"

Donna stood, her eyes dancing with a million emotions and her mouth drawn into a thin line. "Go to your rooms," she told her two youngest. Her voice was strained and Blaine could hear the worry, anger and sadness she was holding back.

The children looked at each other, neither moving. Mark stood and took their hands. "Come on guys," he said quietly to them, then led them from the room.

Donna passed a hand in front of her face, taking a shaky breath. "Oh, god . . ." She turned to Blaine. Her son saw her gaze slide over Marissa as if the girl wasn't even there. Blaine felt her righteous anger and shared it. Marissa wasn't usually like this. How could she be so callous, so cruel to someone as fragile-looking as Kurt?

Marissa, for her part, looked ashamed and horrified. Her gaze flicked between the three other occupants of the room. Her hand was pressed firmly to her lips like she was trying to prevent any other nasty comments from escaping. Blaine noted her fingers trembled slightly.

Donna placed Marissa at her back, apparently not even wanting to look at her daughter right then. She got down on her knees in front of the couch Blaine and Kurt occupied. She reached out one hand and gently lay her fingers on Kurt's pale cheek in a caress, trance-like. Her eyes were clouded with pity. "You poor boy," she murmured. "What happened to you?"

Blaine wanted to know that too? "What's wrong with Kurt?" he asked, his voice small. Donna's eyes snapped to him, the trance shattered. He saw her eyes clear. She straightened.

"It's alright, honey. He's just fainted." She smoothed Kurt's hair back. "Do want to help me take Kurt to the guest bedroom? I think he'll be asleep for a while." Her voice faltered on the word 'asleep'.

Blaine pretended not to notice. "Okay," he said quietly. Donna nodded and gathered Kurt up in her arms. She stood, as did Blaine. Together they headed for the hallway.

As they made their way to the door, Donna passed right in front of Marissa. The girl reached out a hand to lay on Donna's arm. "Mom," she choked. "I—"

Donna shrugged of the hand and glared coldly at her daughter. There was no forgiveness or understanding in her eyes like there usually was. A line had been crossed that even Donna wouldn't put up with. Without a word, she passed Marissa and swept her way into hallway. Marissa met Blaine's gaze, her eyes begging him to say something. He was only able to hold her gaze for a moment before looking away and following his mother out of the room.

Kurt awoke in an unfamiliar bed and for a second his heart raced in panic. Then the day's events started to slowly come back and he the tension left his body. He slumped into the bed, feeling defeated.

The Andersons didn't like him, that much was clear. Sure, Donna and Blaine liked him. He didn't really know what to make of Mark or Reese. Penny's disdain for him was obvious. But what had really shaken him was Marissa's undiluted hatred.

His small body began to tremble. She hated him already and none of them even knew the worst part yet. None of them knew what he was, how volatile and disgusting and _wrong_ he was. They didn't know and still Marissa hated him. Was he really so unlikable? Or could she tell what he really was?

He saw an image. It was his reflection, only in the mirror he was wearing a baggy t-shirt bearing some lame fishing slogan, a pair of dirty jeans that hung limply on his skinny frame and sneakers. His hair was messy and tousled like he hadn't even bother to run a comb through it.

_"It doesn't matter how you dress, freak. Everyone will always know what you are."_

He thought Donna and Blaine wanted to help him. But how was bringing here with someone who obviously hated him helping?

_"I tried helping you. Why do you think I'm so rough on you? I was trying to help you get better. But you just refused to be helped, you worthless little piece of shit."_

StopitstopitstopitstopitSTOPIT! But the memories wouldn't listen and Kurt heard them anyway.

_"No one will ever want you. How could anyone ever want something so . . . broken?"_

Kurt curled into a ball. In this house full of people, he felt just as alone as he always had. Kurt heard the coarse voice speak the words and he knew without a doubt that they were true. Already he was ruining things for these people. They'd would all realize that soon enough, even Donna and—Kurt gulped—Blaine. He whimpered and hugged himself tighter, trying to find a warmth that wasn't there. Daddy hadn't been wrong about this, at least.

He was broken. Who would ever want him now?

** Whew. Getting a little heavy there. Yeah, so Kurt is pretty scarred by what's happened to him in the past few years. I feel bad for hurting the little guy, but like the authors of an amazing story called _And Innocents _said, it's called hurt/comfort because you have to hurt them before you can comfort them. I know the middle of this chapter sucks, but it would NOT let itself be written and this is the best I can do.**

** You know the drill. R&R, please!**


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